Best Friends
by these-dreams-go-on
Summary: AU/AH- Caroline Forbes and Klaus Mikaelson are the best of friends, pursuing their careers in New Orleans and partying it up with their friends, their lives are great...only Caroline is really, really in love with him and her heart breaks every time she sees him with another woman.
1. Chapter 1

A/N- I own nothing associated with the Vampire Diaries or the Originals

* * *

Walking through the French Quarter on that Saturday afternoon, Caroline felt alive.

She knew she looked beautiful and a few of the men walking past were clearly checking her out but they weren't the reason she was fighting the urge to smile as she approached The Coven bar.

She sashays through the doors, not even bothering to stop and look around but making her way straight for the stairs, her hand sliding over the dusty rail as she climbs her way through the dimly lit building, nearly blinded when she steps out onto the rooftop.

Not that it matters.

He laughs and her heart skips a beat, as her centre seems to adjust so that her entire body aches to move towards him.

 _Klaus Mikaelson_.

Her true north.

He's at the far end, at a table filled with people, but she still catches his attention and he beams as he climbs to his feet,

"Hello, sweetheart."

Caroline was rendered breathless by her love for him. When she looked into his eyes she felt as though it wasn't gravity that kept her tied to the earth but him, that it wasn't oxygen flowing through her veins and blood pumping through her heart but adoration for him.

Him.

She isn't controlling her feet but she doesn't need to, they cut a path directly for him and she throws her arms around him, pulling him into a hug, using a greeting as an excuse to touch him, to press her body against his hard planes and to feel the electricity dancing across her skin.

His hand is warm on her back, he kisses her cheek and she wants to weep,

"How's my best girl?" he asks as he breaks the embrace,

They haven't seen each other in four days, and going so long without him, even though they messaged each other several times a day, had been almost painful.

Her senses are overwhelmed seeing him again. Had his hair always been so beautifully golden and curled? Had his eyes always been such a bright blue and his lips so plush and red?

Had his smile always been so entrancing?

"I'm great," she answers as he gestures to the spot on the bench beside him, they have their backs to the edge but it's high up and there's a pillow so that the bricks don't scratch her bare back.

"How about you?"

He opens his mouth but Marcel beats him to the punch,

"Klaus here was just telling me about how we're about to start wearing his art."

Caroline frowns in confusion and turns to him, "Huh?"

"His skeleton series," Stefan explains, "A store asked to print them on t-shirts."

She squeals in excitement and grips his arm, "Seriously?! Nik that's amazing!"

He beams, "Thank-you, sweetheart," he glares at the two men sitting across from him,

"See, you bastards, that's the correct response, not 'Hey, what about thongs,' and that's why Caroline is my best friend."

His best friend.

Caroline Forbes was Niklaus Mikaelson's _best friend_.

Had been for six months now.

Ever since they'd arrived in New Orleans on the same day, her to start her entry level job for a local news network and him to find work as a painter. They'd both arrived just after dawn and met waiting in line for Café Monde and because the place had been so crowded mere minutes after opening, had shared a table.

They were both new to the city, hadn't known anyone so paired up as they spent the day doing all the touristy things together and by the time they were squashed into a corner booth at an overpriced restaurant in the French Quarter eating gumbo, Caroline had suspected she had a crush on this gorgeous Brit.

But she hadn't acted on it that night and now she could almost kiss the stars in gratitude that she hadn't because the women that Klaus slept with?

They never hung around.

Klaus Mikaelson was magnetic, he drew people to him. He was an artist, with an angelic face, an infectious laugh and an energy that couldn't be faked. He was living his life on his own terms and that fascinated people. They were jealous of this young man with his necklaces, his guitar he would casually strum in the bar when he was the right kind of tipsy and his ability to fit in wherever he went.

No house party in the French Quarter was complete unless he was in attendance and the bars he graced became cool in the eyes of the jaded local students and young professionals. He made an event simply by turning up, instantly surrounded by friends and hangers on.  
He had an infectious laugh and flirtatious attitude that had women falling right into his bed only to find themselves forgotten a week or so later but somehow, never with a broken heart or a bruised ego.

How could they be hurt or angry when they'd had a week of romance and adventure?

Still, those few women who thought they could change him? The ones who thought they'd tame Klaus Mikaelson and turn him into a one-woman man? They found themselves waking up to an empty bed, cold sheets, all sign of him gone and their messages ignored until realisation set in.

There was only one constant woman in Klaus' life.

One eternal fixture.

His best friend Caroline Forbes.

So even though she loved him so much that her heart clenched with jealousy at the thought of him with other women, if she couldn't have him as her boyfriend, at least she could be his best friend. The one who got a part of him that nobody else did, the one who got to monopolize his time when she wanted, the one who could talk with him about whatever she wanted and pretend that her feelings for him were purely platonic when she touched him.

Klaus fetches the next round, beers for him, Stefan and Marcel and a cosmopolitan for her. The sun is pleasantly hot and Caroline sips at her drink, tilting her head back and letting the music from the streets below wash over her, along with the pleasant chatter around her. Her eyelids had fluttered closed but she opens them quickly when an arm drapes over her shoulders,

"Careful sweetheart," Nik chastens, "I don't want you going over."

She rolls her eyes, scoffing, "The wall's high enough that the only way I'm going over is by jumping." She rests her arms along the edge, showing them to be at shoulder-height, highlighting her point, "See?"

He doesn't look certain but releases her as a group of people arrive and seeing them, come over, pulling up chairs and just like that, Caroline knows that any chance of one-on-one time she'd had with Nik would be lost in this throng of newcomers, in their annoying conversations and invitations to parties and gatherings.

Lost in the flirtatious smile of the hot red head who had clearly read the promise of a good time in Nik's eyes and was more than ready to experience it first-hand.

She's beautiful and is one of those woman who can wear blood-red lipstick and make it work, whereas Caroline had to settle for more neutral colours. This woman looks like a twenties flapper and Caroline guesses that much like New Orleans during that golden age, Nik will find that nothing will be prohibited for him tonight.

So when the bar starts to get a little too full, and Marcel suggests moving the party back to his place, Caroline distracts herself with Stefan, catching up with him and pretending not to notice when the man she loves slips away with the red head.

The red-head whose name she won't even bother to learn.

But the man whose name she would tattoo onto her skin if it meant that she would be able to call him her own.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N- Here you go.

* * *

Head back.

Swallow.

Smack.

Head back.

Swallow.

Smack.

One after the other, Caroline grabbed the ABC shots and downed them with an expertise that could only come from being young and beautiful in New Orleans.

" _Damn!_ "

Enzo, the man she'd met all of ten minutes ago, is three shots behind her and struggling to catch up. He'd made some disparaging remark about the beer she'd been drinking and she'd decided to challenge him to a game of six shots.

Hayley, an off-duty bartender, had mixed them the shots from whatever she could grab first from Marcel's windowsill, which was working double duty as the liquor shelf.

She supposed it was sheer luck that they'd ended up with ABC's and not three different types of Absinthe.

"See," Caroline gloated as he reached for a bottle of water and gagged, realizing it was vodka,

"Not just a pretty blonde face!"

He's still spluttering and trying to recover his ability to flirt, Caroline catches Hayley's eye, they share a smirk and she pushes herself up from the couch, giving herself a moment so she doesn't noticeably sway and then she strides around the studio apartment.

It's absolutely bursting with people. Marcel's immediate circle of friends and then random guests they picked up along the way. Alcohol is pouring freely, and there's the scent of weed in the air, even though the stoners had the decency to hang by the open windows or climb up to the roof.

Marcel came from money, not that he was willing to talk about it, or shove it in anyone's face but his warehouse converted apartment is staggeringly huge, despite the fact that it's crowded and Caroline feels flushed.

She hears an acoustic guitar playing and sees Stefan in a corner, on a wooden crate that was there for aesthetics more than practicality, but he's the absolute picture of a hipster musician, playing the instrument with an almost careless ease, even though it's barely audible over the din, and holding a conversation with some enraptured girl until Caroline strides over and sits down on the ground beside him, looking up with a grin,

"Hey!"

He manages a small smile and puts the guitar down, leaning it against the wall and seemingly conjures a large bottle out of nowhere,

"No thanks," she waves a hand but he still presses it against her, "It's water," he speaks into her ear, and she accepts it gratefully.

It's already been opened, but Caroline doesn't even think about it. She trusts Stefan with her welfare. He's always the one who makes sure everyone gets water in between their drinks, will keep an eye on the crowd and will walk a girl home without any expectations.

She'd even dated him for a while. Klaus had met the guy and introduced them to one another, setting them up almost then and there, and for a while it had been nice. Stefan was a med student who volunteered at crises centers, stopped to pat every dog on the street and had adopted a stray cat that he kept hidden from his landlord. They'd gone out to dinner, movies, and the sex had been good, not great, but it'd been fun and spontaneous.

There was only one problem.

Stefan had guessed by the second week that Caroline was head over heels in love with Klaus.

He'd been kind to her, telling her that she was a great girl, swearing that he wouldn't tell her best friend why they were breaking up and that if the situation had been different…

He explained to her that he'd had his heart broken before, his last real girlfriend and first one true love had fallen in love with his older brother while they were still dating and he'd caught her cheating on him, in the worst possible way.

Part of him was still recovering from that.

So they went back to being friends.

"You okay?" Stefan asks, glancing from the corner of his eyes to where Enzo is waiting on the couch for her to return and she shrugs,

"He's cute but full of himself."

She looks about the room for someone more fun to flirt and maybe go home with when she sees a flash of blonde hair that she can recognize even when she's drunk in a dimly lit room.

"Klaus is here," she blurts in surprise, "Why is Klaus here?"

Giggling, she puts her hand on Stefan's arm and he automatically grips her elbow, helping her to stand. She calls his name and weaves through the crowd, bumping into people and comes up from behind, resting an elbow on his shoulder.

He turns his face to her and she can see his eyes are bloodshot and he smells of weed.

Weed and sex.

With lipstick stains on his neck.

In spite of herself, she giggles, "You look terrible." She tells him brightly, "Why are you here?"

He shrugs, "You know I'm not an overnighter," he looks around, "How many are you down?"

She hums and throws her head back, trying to remember, "Maybe…this many?"

She holds up her fingers and waggles them, "Spirit Fingers!"

He nods, "Okay love, come on then."

He slips an arm around her waist and leads her to the kitchen, grabbing one of the last few clean glasses available and filling it to the brim with water, "Drink."

She obeys him, winking cheekily as she downs it in one and hands it to him, "You need water as well."

He smirks, clearly about to blow her off but sees the look she giving him and surrenders, refilling the glass for himself. They settle down on the couch opposite Hayley, Caroline trying to ignore how much Klaus reeks of trashy perfume and cheap sex.

Hayley, they learn, interns with a conservation project in the Bayou focused on a rare breed of wolf, working nights as a bartender to pay her way. From there the conversation turns to their jobs and even though Caroline is passionate about her work, she finds herself becoming drowsy and leaning her head against Klaus' shoulder, yawning as she drifts off.

She jerks awake when the party winds down, people leaving with loud goodbyes and the clatter of glass bottles they take with them. She stretches her cramped legs and Klaus' jacket falls off her shoulder, she sits up and looks around.

Stefan is lying on the coffee table, staring up at the light and humming to himself, stoned out of his mind. Klaus is trying to clear some of the immediate wreckage and Marcel is shepherding the last of the guests out the door.

She has an idea and kicks Stefan with her foot, "Get your guitar."

"What guitar?" he slurs and she kicks him again, "Klaus! Grab Stefan's guitar."

"I'm not that drunk love," he calls from the kitchen and she frowns,

"Klaus!"

Marcel laughs and pushes him forward, "Do as the pretty lady says or I'm making you walk home."

She claps her hands in delight as Klaus grumbles good-naturedly as he crosses the room and grabs the guitar from the corner, perching himself on the arm of the couch and settling it on his lap,

"Okay, love," he sighs as he tunes it and grabs the pick, "What'll it be?"

She smiles in triumph and tilts her head for a moment to think before beginning to hum the song and he smirks, following along easily.

Caroline leant her head back on the couch, closing her eyes as she sang the chorus, her voice crystal clear in the quiet apartment,

"…oh now feel it coming back again, like a rolling thunder chasing the wind…"

When the song ends and the guitar chords fade, she continues humming and doesn't open her eyes until she feels Klaus move down beside her, sliding an arm around her waist and resting his forehead against her temple. The two of them have a moment, one single moment where they are breathing in sync and the only sound in the world is the air as it enters and leaves their lungs, hers barely audible as his thunders in her ears.

Too soon though, the moment is gone.

"Okay," Marcel appears in front of them, clapping his hands once, "Concert's over, the audience wants to go to bed."

Klaus puts his guitar down as she pouts, "No," she whines, "One more song!"

Marcel shakes his head, "I've heard you say that before, I'm not staying up til six listening to you two play the greatest hits of whatever era comes to mind," he comes forward and slides an arm around her waist, scooping her up, "Come on."

She squeaks as he swings her around and lets her arm dangle freely, "Save me." she calls as he carries her across the room and Klaus follows laughing, "I'll set up the guest room," he offers, "You can go to bed."

"It's fine," Marcel grunted, trying to wedge the sliding door to the second bedroom open with his foot, "I've got her."

He reaches past him to open the door and Caroline's world spins in warning, "Really mate," he argues, "It'll be another hour before she goes to sleep. I'll watch over her."

"Will you now?" Marcel demands, placing Caroline gently on the bed and she closes her eyes gratefully, "Just watch, huh?"

"What exactly are you implying?"

"That Caroline is going to bed alone and she's damn sure going to wake up alone, you wanna be the one to take care of her? Maybe you should stop fucking around and…"

"You piece of…"

" _Hey!_ " Stefan's voice entered the fray and that was the last thing Caroline heard before she lost consciousness.

* * *

The sunlight was painfully assaulting her eyelids and her head was pounding violently as the rest of her tried to keep itself in one piece.

Caroline groaned as she woke up, feeling very fragile and swallowed to try and wet her mouth, it didn't work and she threw out a hand, patting the bed beside her and frowning in confusion when she encountered an obstacle.

A man-made obstacle.

But not one she recognized.

She cracked open an eye and saw blonde hair but dirty blonde, not the golden blonde of her best friend.

It was Stefan Salvatore.

Had she slept with him?

She moved her head as much as she could and saw that all her clothes were still on and she didn't smell anything like sex. She swallows again and coughs drily, pushing herself up and looking around the room blearily.

Her knee nudges Stefan's thigh and he starts, opening his eyes and rubbing them as he sat up,

"Good morning," he yawns, giving a crooked smile, "So, on a scale of one to death-please, how bad do you feel?"

"Um," she stammers and runs a hand through her hair, "What happened last night? Did we…?"

"No," he stretches out the word, chuckling and shaking his head, "No, you were in no shape to say yes to anything except a glass of water last night."

She rotates her hips and eases herself into a sitting position before looking at him expectantly,

"So?" she demands, "Why are you here? Where's…?"

The lines across her forehead grow deeper as she struggles to remember the party last night. It was clear right up until they'd reached Marcel's place, after that, things got a little blurry.

But she was certain that Klaus had been there last night.

Unless she'd dreamt that?

Stefan clears his throat awkwardly and asks her what she can remember and she fills him in, noting his shoulders drop in what's either relief or disappointment.

"Yeah, Klaus and I stayed over last night," he explains, scratching the back of his neck,

"But he and Marcel were deep into a game of poker when you passed out on the couch, I carried you in here, got you some water, we talked until you fell asleep and…" he looks down, "Guess I passed out as well."

"And they left you here?!"

He shrugs, "Guess they figured we'd be pretty safe with each other."

She doesn't immediately laugh at his comment and now he's the one frowning,

"Did I do something wrong?"

She shakes her head and forces a smile on her face, "Nope…just trying to psyche myself up for a shower."

Despite every part of her body begging her to lie back down and sleep, she forces herself to tumble out of the bed and grab one of the two guest towels that Marcel owned after the first time she'd crashed here.

With Klaus.

And they'd…

Well.

Needed the shower the next morning.

It'd started shortly after their first night partying together; they'd ended up on her couch with his hand up her dress. Drunken friends with benefits.

Strictly foreplay benefits. They never had sex and never when she was in a relationship and he was with his girl of the week.

But last night, she was surprised that he hadn't stumbled into her bed and woken her up with his lips on her neck.

Unless she'd done something wrong? Or he'd seen her and Stefan and assumed that they were back together?

She's so caught up in her contemplation that she's not even looking where she's going, her eyes on the ground in front of her and she bumps headfirst into the man on her mind.

"Oof" she grunts and giggles, "Morning."

Klaus has shadows under his tired eyes and stubble along his jaw. He's wearing the same clothes and they look rumpled but not slept in,

"Morning, sweetheart," he rubs his shoulder where she'd hit him,

"I'm thinking Café Refuel for breakfast?" he suggests, looking down at his phone, "Then, I'm going to need your advice on some artistic matters."

She frowns, picking up immediately on the chill in his tone, "Okay, but what about Marcel and Stefan?"

He shakes his head, "Marcel will be asleep for hours yet and Stefan won't want to eat at a café with no decent vegetarian options."

She opens her mouth and closes it again, trying to quickly figure out what's wrong.

But he meets her eyes and she can't see any darkness in the blue depth so she figures that Klaus was just being Klaus and heads into the bathroom.

While her best friend could be charming and sociable, there were times when he became moody and distant, withdrawing from everyone but her. She'd learnt to just let him be during these times and he was back to himself soon enough.

* * *

A few blocks over from Café Refuel, on the edge of the French Quarter, Klaus worked in a warehouse that had been converted into a dozen mini-studios for artists.

Caroline knew the place and many of the artists well, she had often provided them with homemade baked goods when the fancy took her and she needed an excuse to bring Klaus presents.

His small area, with the window that had been cut in half by a barely-legal sheet of dry wall marking the cut off between his space and the next, contained three easels, a tiny shelf overflowing with supplies, two mismatched seats Caroline had found on a hard rubbish day and a table that was kept dust-free only from frequent use.

His most recent paintings, the ones he hadn't done for commission, were leaning against the wall and he leads her over to them, she crouches down to observe them. The bold colors stunning even with the horrendous imagery.

The painting was set in a modern art gallery, people dressed beautifully in gowns and tuxedos, drinking champagne and nibbling on petit-fours. Smiling and laughing gaily, an abundance of enjoyment.

Even as the flesh rotted from their bodies.

Klaus called this series 'Les âmes meurent dégoûtantes', the French title itself a mockery, he painted the wealthy, the cultured and the elite as corpses in decay as a metaphor for the destruction their status and riches wrought on their souls. He had been inspired by a work party Caroline had dragged him along to and she would have been deeply offended except that she understood where he was coming from.

During her time as Miss Mystic Falls and chairing numerous committees in her home town, she had seen way too many instances of rich people patting themselves on the back for raising money for poor people in some distant area while mistreating the poor people right in front of them.

Klaus took his inspiration from the world around him and she recognized the theatre houses, high end stores and even some of the business district in the ten paintings in front of her. What made them so captivating was how he mused the rotting flesh with the everyday situations, making the disgusting appear so ordinary.

"It's getting worse," she notes with interest, "You're painting them to show their skeletons now as well."

He nods, "Which prints should I give to the store?"

She hums in thought and turns her eyes to every single painting, trying to figure out which ones would best be displayed, when he gave her the store name, she looked it up and saw that it catered primarily to hipsters.

"The irony of making money off my series condemning capitalistic society isn't lost to me." he assures her as she picks out the painting of the opera house, business office and the couple emerging from the limo right beside a homeless man.

She helping him prep them for transport when his phone buzzes and he grimaces as he looks at the screen, "Everything okay?" she asks and he glances up at her quickly before slipping it back into his pocket, "It's fine." He assures her, but the phone continues buzzing and, not even ten minutes later, ringing.

"Is it an emergency or an 'emergency'?" she huffs in annoyance, using her fingers to make air quotes and he looks embarrassed,

"Um…it's the woman from last night," he admits, "She uh…must have put her number in my phone when I was in the shower."

She quirks an eyebrow and schools her features so her own reflection in the mirror wouldn't know she was jealous and hurt,

"You showered before heading to Marcel's? she snorts, "Hope he didn't get the wrong idea."

He smirks at her joke and shrugs, "I'm not going to see her again so…"

Caroline didn't mean to interrupt him but she was on a roll, "Oh come on," she teases, "At least give her the week you give the rest of your women."

He stops and seems to consider her before responding, "You think I should?" he asks and she shrugs, looking down,

"Why not?"

"Why not indeed." He mutters under his breath and she takes one of the paintings, "I'm going to check if the taxi is here," she blabs before stepping into the tiny, dark hall, nearly colliding with another red head- seriously, soulless monsters- who is overly cheerful as she sticks her head into Klaus' office,

"Hi, I'm grabbing everyone coffees!" she chirps, "You want some?"

Caroline kept her breathing even as she moved out of earshot to hear Klaus' reply. That red head had been attractive too, so when his current one was over and done with, she'd probably be next in line.

An endless parade of women.

And Caroline would never be one of them.

She swallows and steps onto the bright, sunlit street, looking both ways unnecessarily for the maxi taxi they'd ordered to move the paintings to the store which had the technology to make smaller prints that could be pressed onto t-shirts.

She was spending her weekend helping the man she loved and he would be spending the evening romancing some woman whose name he wouldn't even remember six weeks from now.

She slipped her phone out of her handbag and considered tracking down the guy she'd met last night. Someone to distract herself with until the pain hurt just a little less.

* * *

A/N- Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

_1 whole chicken (approx. 4 pounds)_

 _1/2 cup fresh lemon juice, plus 3 whole lemons including 1 sliced for garnish._

 _1 tablespoon kosher or coarse sea salt._

 _1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper._

 _Fresh herbs for garnish (4 rosemary sprigs, 4 sage sprigs, 8 thyme sprigs, and 1 bunch flat-leaf parsley)_

Caroline loved cooking on Sundays.

She had never had the Sunday roast growing up. Her mom had always been at work trying to build a career and her dad had always been on 'business trips'.

Once those business trips had been revealed to be motel meetings with his secret boyfriend, he had moved away and her mom had spent Sundays working to make ends meet.

She had been around to her friend's houses but always felt a bit like an intruder on their family time.

But now, living on her own, she could have a Sunday roast and invite anyone she wanted.

Except for Klaus.

He considered his invitation open and permanent and usually wandered into her house a little after eleven am.

Often tired, sometimes hungover, always splattered with a little bit of paint.

He would perch himself on the couch in her open plan apartment and talk to her while she cooked.

He'd offered to help in the beginning but had given up, holding up his hands and declaring himself not up to the level of perfection she demanded in her meals.

And she did want her meals to be perfect.

But she also didn't want him to see the page she used to roast the chicken.

Because it was a little embarrassing.

It was called 'The Engagement Chicken' from early 2006 and 2007, it was a recipe that had supposedly led to over seventy boyfriends proposing to their girlfriends after they had cooked them this meal.

Caroline hadn't been an ardent believer but after the first few months of knowing Klaus, she'd figured that it couldn't hurt to try. Obviously, it hadn't worked but the chicken was always popular at the meals, so she was going to keep using the recipe until she found a better one.

She hears footsteps by her front door, which she'd left ajar and flicks to another site just as Klaus comes through the door carrying a shopping bag,

"Breadsticks and your favorite lemonade." he offered by way of greeting and she beamed with delight as she helped him set the bag on the bench.

"Marcel, Stefan and Davina are coming today," she tells him, "You've met Davina, right?"

He nods, "Marcel's first little sister in the program, she likes to draw and wants to get into game design."

"Right, well, she's never had a Sunday roast before…her parents were part of the Tremaine cult so of course, I invited her."

He grins and shuffles past her to grab a glass from her cabinet, "Course you did, sweetheart."

He pours the lavender lemonade for her and puts the rest into a pitcher, carrying it to the table before going to her windowsill where she grew pots of herbs. He picks some peppermint, washes it and tosses it in with the lemonade and she loves that he's so at home and at ease in her apartment.

He's taking a look at her tv which had been playing up recently, she could no longer run Netflix through her X-Box when Stefan calls from downstairs.

"Door's jammed again," he tells her as he makes his way out, "I'll go get him."

He's barely gone a minute when his phone starts ringing and Caroline nearly drops the tea towel in surprise.

Klaus Mikaelson was practically famous for his bad luck with cell-phones.

If he didn't break them by sleeping on them, dropping them down stairwells, or once off the roof of their favorite bar he was forever losing them.

At first, it had been kind of fun to try and figure out where they'd ended up- one iphone managed to make it to Florida, but at this point everyone had got used to contacting him through Facebook or Caroline.

So, she is so startled by him not only having a phone but having brought it with him that the call ends and goes to voicemail.

After the third time it rings, and she checks the screen to see an international number, she figures it might be an emergency.

"Klaus Mikaelson's phone," she answers, feeling a bit like an idiot, "He'll just be a few minutes."

There's a pause on the other end before a polite voice speaks with gently accented tones,

"Did my brother get himself a secretary?"

She laughs at the thought, "No, this is Caroline, and I'm guessing you're Elijah?"

He hums an affirmative before speaking, "Caroline?"

The way he says her name makes it clear he doesn't know who she is but she figures that he must have just forgotten.

"Forbes," she prompts, "Klaus' friend?"

His best friend. The one he must surely have mentioned to his family at least once or twice.

"Of course," Elijah answers in a tone that's meant to be polite but is obvious that he's covering.

"Could you please tell my brother to call me back?" he asks, as if she's Klaus' secretary, as if she's nothing more to him than that.

Because apparently, as far as his family knows, she isn't.

He ends the call and she stares at the phone, the plastic and metal that was so small, so thin and yet had managed to give her a smack in the face.

She'd figured that even if she was never going to be Klaus' girlfriend, that at the very least, as his best friend, she would have a relationship with his family.

She wasn't expecting to be adopted by them, or talk with his siblings every week or anything like that, but she had thought that, maybe, she could be friends with them.

Except that Klaus had never even mentioned her to them.

* * *

She has his phone back on the counter and is forcing herself to concentrate on making sure the food is perfect when he finally returns to her apartment, Stefan, Marcel and Davina in tow.

Davina is a pretty teenage girl, but she reminds Caroline of a guinea pig, trembling and jumpy, startled every time someone mentions her name.

However, once Caroline gets everyone sitting around the table and eating, she comes to life a little bit, keeping an eye on Marcel and needing his gentle assurance that everything was okay but she begins showing some spunk by the time Caroline is serving the apple pie.

"You should go visit Klaus' studio," she suggests as Davina helps her clear the plates,

"I don't think there's any room now but it might be something you're interested in later."

Davina nods, "Klaus showed me around a few days ago, it's definitely cool, but there's so many people!"

She turns back to him, "Hey, I forgot to ask you, you know that pink haired girl that you were with?"

Klaus blinks, and tilts his head, clearly trying to remember and Caroline laughs,

"You'll have to be a _lot_ more specific," she tells Davina, "Nik here is a bit of a man-slut."

"Right," Davina clears her throat, "Well, did she used to be brunette? I swear she looked really familiar."

"Again," Caroline says, "You're going to have to be lot more specific if you want to jog his memory."

She realizes too late that there's a bit of bite to her words but thankfully, Marcel laughs and claps his friend on the back,

"If the shoe fits." He says as Klaus opens his mouth, closing it again silently and shrugging.

He and Stefan go out onto the fire escape for a cigarette, Caroline closing the window on them so the smoke doesn't get into the apartment. Davina and Marcel leave shortly after and Caroline finds herself killing time by browsing hook-up apps until she comes across a profile she recognizes.

Enzo.

Stefan interrupts her thoughts by tapping politely on the glass, "Can we come in, please?" he asks and she taps her chin with a finger, playing it up dramatically,

"Um…nope."

She jokingly leaves them out there for another five minutes until Klaus bangs on the window, and she raises it, letting them clamber through.

Stefan meanders out the door after another twenty minutes, taking a look at her tv and promising to ask a friend of his to offer a solution.

Leaving just her and Klaus.

Who barely waits until she's closed the door before pushing her against it, catching her hands and holding them beside her head as he steals a kiss.

"Hmmm," she mumbles against his mouth, "Urgh, you taste like smoke."

He smirks, pressing their bodies together and grinding against her slightly, "You taste like sugar," he whispers in her ear, his breath warm on her skin, "Very sweet."

She squirms against him and gasps when he begins kissing her neck, "Very smooth."

"Like you said, sweetheart," he murmurs as he releases her hands so he can grip her hips,

"I'm a man-slut."

She giggles and they kiss again, "I stand by that, you know," she says as his fingers begin playing with the button on her jeans,

"But…I kinda already have a guy coming over."

"Oh," Klaus leans back, his lips parted, "Anyone I know?"

She shrugs, "Maybe, you remember Enzo? From Marcel's?"

He takes his hands off her, "Didn't you say that guy was an asshole?"

"I said he was a jerk," she corrects him, "But doesn't change the fact that he's cute and you don't have to like every aspect of someone to go to bed with them. Otherwise _you_ ," she puts a finger to his chest, "Would never get laid."

She realizes he could have misinterpreted that so she follows on with, "Mister Sleeps-with-Bimbos."

He lets her push him back with her finger and grabs his jacket off the hook, "Right, well, don't let me get in the way of true-meaningless sex."

She rolls her eyes, "Get out," she orders playfully, "Oh and ring your older brother, he called earlier."

Klaus frowned as he scooped up his phone, "Lijah?" he asked, "What'd he want?"

She shrugged, running a hand through her hair and checking herself in the mirror, "I don't know, I answered but he obviously had no idea who I was so I think he was a little freaked."

"Right…" he looks down at his screen in confusion, "Must be having trouble with his wife again."

She wants to know what he means by that but he'll probably brush her off, after all, if he doesn't bother telling his family about her, why should he tell her about his family?

She leaves him to make his own way out while ducking into her bedroom to change into sexier lingerie, and when Enzo arrives, her best friend is long gone.

And a part of her is glad about that.

She does love Klaus. Too much for her own good, which was why whenever they fooled around, whenever he got her close to climax, she was worried that she might blurt out this secret.

Besides, as much as she enjoyed it when he touched her, when he used his fingers or mouth to make her come, she was always left a little frustrated that they didn't go all the way.

Hell, maybe she could handle being only his best friend if she could work out her completely work out her lust for him, instead of getting so close to the edge and then stopping.

Instead, she had to settle for being the one girl in the French Quarter that Klaus Mikaelson wouldn't screw.

* * *

When Enzo arrives, she's wearing a baby doll nightie and nothing else. She looks absolutely gorgeous, at least according to him as he kisses his way down her body in the living area before carrying her to the bedroom.

She's laughing as he drops her onto the bed and doesn't stop until she's moaning with pleasure, but then Enzo makes a big deal about her no longer laughing at his skills and she has a moment where between giggling and climaxing she loses the ability to breathe.

Thankfully, it's only a short moment and then they get back into the swing of things, Caroline rolling him onto his back so she can straddle him and finish him off.

Afterwards, he doesn't linger, spending only an hour or so with some casual pillow talk, the suggestion that they make a habit of this and kissing her cheek goodbye before telling her that she looks beautiful when she's ruffled.

She smiling as she flops back onto the bed, even though the room is growing dark and she'll need to change the sheets and shower and get ready for work tomorrow. She's relaxed and in a much better place than she would have been after fooling around with Klaus, especially after finding out that his older brother couldn't have placed her in a line-up.


	4. Chapter 4 8th May

A/N- This site is so incompetent it must have been written by the TVD scriptwriters post season 3

* * *

Wow.

Caroline hadn't realized that she was so old until she had added Davina Claire on Facebook.

When she'd been a teenager, WIFI- especially in high schools- had still been on its way in and data plans had been really expensive. Plus, there'd been all these rules about not using phones during school hours, the terror of parents and teachers who feared catfishing and other nameless horrors that would befall their innocent babies.

But there seemed to be no barrier between Davina and her feed from the hours of eight am until ten pm. Her opinion on the weather when she first woke up, how she'd slept, the traffic on her way to school, the café she ducked into first, the cute older barista who liked her and her friends so always gave her a free upsize, commentary on her first class of the day...  
Somehow, she managed to make it all seem upbeat, positive and interesting to read in a way that Caroline would never have been able to achieve had she been her age.  
It probably helped that her posts were mixed up with cute animal videos and artworks from ancient history to the modern era that were slightly less well-known.

Girl had beauty and substance.

Caroline was sitting at her work desk, waiting for the clock to strike five pm so she could look like she'd pulled a full day and earn goodwill with the bosses for her intended summer vacation in three months. If anyone looked at her from the front, she had the same busy expression on her face that had been perfected purely to fool the older generations.

In reality, she was being a slightly creepy stalker.

She was trying to find Klaus' older brother on Facebook.

Klaus himself didn't have a profile, but there were plenty of photos of them together on her page, deliberately interspersed with photos of her with Stefan and Marcel and with some of her girlfriends as well so she didn't look like she was trying to be 'one of the guys' or 'not like the other girls'.  
But Elijah only had a basic profile that had been half set-up in 2008, friended his siblings and listed himself as married and then never touched again.

Ew, maybe he was one of those pretentious people who didn't have Facebook?

Like the people who hadn't owned tv sets, they'd been edgy back in the day, but now, they were just weird.

Strangely enough, he did have Instagram and under his own name, with really good unfiltered pictures of various places in the UK, mostly bookstores and historical monuments, obviously unknowingly cool and followed by lots of people even though there was no consistency to what he posted.

She'd only figured out it was the right Elijah Mikaelson because there had been a single-family photo, near the beginning. The siblings all wearing white-tie outfits and sitting on a white marble staircase, obviously, none of them were aware there was a camera trained on them, because they were all facing away, caught in the act of talking and laughing, Klaus had an arm around a pretty blonde girl who Caroline had to guess was Rebekah.

Because- and again, it's stalkery and slightly unhinged that she knew this, Klaus and Rebekah were the only siblings who had the same shade of blonde hair as their parents. The rest of the brood were-almost alarmingly- brunettes, the lightest being the mousey-haired firstborn twins Finn and Freya.

Perhaps that was why she remembered him telling her one night before the tequila drowned her memories that his parents had got divorced.

Anyhow, her phone chimes and she sees that the ten minutes she'd set herself for Facebook/social-media stalking were up.

She'd figured setting herself limits would separate her from the psychopath killers with the basement dungeons.

Fingers crossed.

To Klaus: Drink after I get off?

From Enzo: Hello, Gorgeous, hope you're having a great day!

She smirks at the message from Enzo, having still been riding the great sex high when she'd woken up this morning and felt in a much better place after her mini-meltdown when she'd realized that she wasn't even a blip on Klaus' family radar.

Even though she had had to monitor how much she spoke about him to her friends and family back home so they wouldn't guess just what she felt for him and then tease her for it.

Her phone buzzes and a smile plays on her lips as she sees his name pop up on the screen.

From Klaus: Drinks at Rousseau's tonight with friends

Caroline reads the six words twice, frowning slightly as she considers them.

So…sharp, none of his usual emojis or barely coherent ramblings about how he was surrounded by fools etc.

To Klaus: Is this you?

* * *

From Klaus: It's Stefan, Klaus is busy doing…he's making art somehow.

Oh.

That made more sense.

She checks the clock above the water cooler, sees she's free to leave and begins shutting down her computer as she gathers her stuff.

She's just slung her bag over her shoulder when she hears a delicate throat being cleared,

"Hey Care!"

Care?

For a moment, she wonders if Bonnie got into the helium again before turning around to find herself facing the make-up artist the network used.

"Hi Ashley," she beams, while an internal monologue of her own screams begins playing in her head,

"Heading out?" Ashley asked unnecessarily, jerking her chin at Caroline's handbag and she forces herself to keep her voice light, "Yep, meeting someone at a bar."

Ashely jumps on that like a bloodhound on a murder scent, "Oh…are you meeting up with Klaus? He invited me out tonight but forgot to message me the deets so…"

No, no he didn't.

Caroline had made the mistake of dragging Klaus along to one of her work picnics, having had a hand in organizing the event and wanting numbers there to make it look good.

Unfortunately, while the event had been a success, so had Klaus with a few too many of her co-workers.

In his defence, he'd only been flirting lazily, not actually planning on taking anybody home but Ashley had fallen so damn hard he couldn't help but catch her.

And when their expiration date came up, Klaus had found himself with a woman looking to go exclusive, who'd even suggested swapping house keys 'in case of emergencies'

Using the excuse of bedbugs and roach infestation, Klaus had decamped to Marcel's while Caroline had tried dropping hints at work about what bad boyfriend material he was and how Ashley could do so much better.

Better than a gorgeous blonde haired, blue-eyed Brit with dimples you could climax over and an accent that could give your panties a quick reintroduction to gravity when used just right.

Better than a semi-successful artist who could play guitar and spoke French- and weirdly enough, basic Bulgarian.

Yeah, Caroline hadn't really been able to sell that point.

Eventually, Ashley had figured out that she and Klaus were no longer dating when Caroline kept name-dropping his current bedwarmers of the week but some unkind office rumours had suggested that she kept showing up at the bars and clubs Klaus and Caroline were known to frequent in the hopes of running into him.

Caroline had brushed off those rumours until now.

"Actually, I'm meeting my friend Stefan," she lies, "I don't know what Klaus is up to tonight…probably a hot date."

She shrugs as if the idea doesn't hurt them both and gives her a quick wave, "See you tomorrow!"

* * *

"You know, for an artist, you're pretty bad with colours."

Caroline finds Klaus standing outside the warehouse, hands in his pockets with Stefan, Marcel and Davina huddled around him, he's glaring at the young girl but Caroline doesn't see any anger there.

"You know, for a law-abiding citizen, you're pretty paranoid," He returns, glancing up as Caroline approaches and drawing her in,

"Ignore this one," he tells her, conspiratorially, "She's read too many teen novels about sparkly vampires."

Davina shrieks, stamping her foot as Stefan chuckles, "I have not! I would never read…tell him, Marcel!"

Marcel wraps an arm around her shoulders, "I know, Di, come on, let's get some food into you before I get you home."

As the only other female in the group, Caroline walks beside Davina and makes conversation with her, the young girl looking down at her shoes and then at her handbag with clear appreciation and that doesn't hurt Caroline's ego at all.

The bartender at Rousseau's gives them side-eye when they walk in with the clearly underage Davina, but they ignore him in favour of trying to find seats. With a huff, Klaus strides over and manages to grab a tiny two-seat couch, Caroline following on his heels and sitting down beside him, casting an eye around for other available seats. Stefan comes a second after them, looks around and finds three stools at the bar, where he and the others set up.

"Bloody tourists," Klaus grumbles, in his British accent and Caroline hums noncommittally, trying not to smile, as she checks out the cute bartender who was low-key trying to determine whether Marcel was a danger to Davina who already had her phone out and was prepping for a cute selfie.

"You can say that if you have an address here." He continues, picking up on her silent response and she giggles, "So why was Davina insulting your artistic talent?" she asks as Stefan buys a round and brings them over their drinks. Being the daughter of a cop, Caroline glances pointedly at the cocktail Davina was now instagramming, "Mocktail." Stefan mouths and she nods.

"Oh right…this…uh girl I might be seeing later," Klaus breaks off to sip his beer and Caroline smiles right through, "Davina is sure that she's seen her before and that she used to be a red-head."

Caroline frowns, "Who…Genevieve?"

He shakes his head, "I think I'd know my former flames better than Davina."

Caroline shrugs, "I don't know, personally I stopped counting when you hit triple digits."

He glances at her, "Says the girl who finished Sunday luncheon by inviting a strange man around for sex."

There's a sharp edge to his tone that isn't usually there and she feels a little defensive but tries to play it off, "Well, I'd already had a strange guy around for food, besides," she adds,

"Who else was there to hook up with? Marcel?"

You.

She lets that hang in the air, wanting to see if Klaus would latch onto it, if maybe it would prompt a…not a fight exactly, because they never fought, at worse they snapped at each other and then everything went back to normal.

Perhaps a discussion about their sexual boundaries.

Instead he just shrugs, "I don't think Marcel's looking for anything at the moment," he answers,

"Although I think Davina Claire has found a new friend."

The two of them look to the bar where Davina was almost toppling into the service area as she chatted enthusiastically with the bartender, leaning on her arms and her hair brushing the scratched wood.

"She's a pet," Klaus murmurs, "My first girlfriend was a lot like her, loved everyone and everything, short and sweet."

He's never spoken of this girl before, so Caroline greedily follows that trail of breadcrumbs right back to the source, "What was her name?" she asks, trying to look casual as she props her head in her hand, and sips on her beer.

"Aurora," he answers, glancing at her with a self-deprecating quirk of his lips, "French."

"Of course," she sighs, "And did you wake her up with a kiss?"

He shakes his head, "No…I'm the one that put her to sleep."

She laughs, trying to imagine a teenage Klaus who was somehow not the charmer he was today. "You can't have been that bad."

He takes his beer and drains the rest in one go. "Shots?"

She scoffed, "Are you serious? I have work tomorrow."

He shrugs, draping his arm over the back of the couch and she tries not to think about the proximity of his hand to her hair, "We've worked hungover before, love."

Yes, but there was a vast difference between being drunk on a Tuesday and being drunk on a Friday.

She pretends to think about it, "I'll do shots if you tell me more about yourself as a teenager."

His raises his eyebrows, "Beer it is then."

"Urgh," she groans, "You never tell me anything, you're the worst!"

"I know," he answers, "Which is why I never tell you anything."

She huffs, getting to her feet and kicking her handbag between his legs so he could keep an eye on it for her, "Well, I'm going to go have a nice long heart-to-heart with that cute bartender and we're both going to ignore you."

* * *

Caroline grunted as Klaus walked her backwards into the tiny cleaning closet they'd long since discovered in the hidden corner of Rousseau's and pushed her against the door. She grabs handfuls of his hair and brings his head down for a sloppy kiss.

His hands find the button to her pants and push them down her thighs, he breaks the kiss to bury his face in her neck, his breath warm on her skin as his hand delved between her legs.

"Still prefer the bartender to me, love?" Klaus teases, as his fingers play along her folds and she grips his shirt in her hands, "One- he's gay, two- shut up and stop being a dick."

He laughs and kisses her as he slips one finger inside her, testing her arousal before adding another and then a third. He's done this before, enough times that even with the amount of alcohol they've both consumed, he knows how to make her come.

She kisses him again, tasting the beer and tequila which she wished she was just a little drunker so she could ignore at the moment, but even then, she was worrying about how he'd be feeling in the morning.

Right until he curls his fingers and rubs her clit and she's burying her face in his shoulder as she climaxes. Klaus buries his nose in her hair and holds her tightly against him as she comes back down, waiting until she can definitely notice the not-a-roll-of-quarters in his jeans.

She's equal opportunity in sex, so she leans back against the door to create space between them and begins unbuckling his belt, "Always so happy to see me," she murmurs, feeling languid as she reaches into his jeans and boxers, rubs the pre-cum off his tip and begins stroking him.

Usually, Klaus came apart pretty quickly in her hands or mouth, which was weird because unfortunately, some of the girls he'd dated had gushed about his skills to Caroline for her to know that this wasn't a regular thing for him, but this time, she couldn't get him there.

"What's wrong?" she asked, giving his still hard penis a gentle squeeze, "You need a moment?"

He shook his head, shifting a little closer to her, "It's nothing, just my head…" he stopped as she giggled at the bad choice of words, "Shut up and come here."

He pulls her in for another kiss, his free hand reaching under her top to squeeze her right breast and she drags her nails lightly along his shaft.

Still nothing.

"Screw it," she said, gasping for air when he finally released her, "Let's have sex."

"Can't…" he protested, backing away and leaning against a rickety shelf, gripping it with his hands as he tried to catch his breath, "Not a good idea."

"Why not?!" Caroline demanded, running a hand through her hair, "I'm not auditioning to become one of your bi-weekly bimbos, but I don't think there's much difference between friends-with-semi-benefits and full blown friends-with-full-benefits."

"Several reasons," he counters, "One, I use condoms but haven't been tested in four months so I could have something, two, we're both drunk, not past the point of consent but close enough for it to be a concern and three, I don't want to ruin our friendship when this becomes something emotional."

"You think I'm going to get emotional over sex with you?" she scoffed, putting her hand on her chest, "I'm emotionally invested in you as a friend but we've been doing foreplay since…forever, and I've never once needed to braid your hair and talk about my feelings afterward."

"I didn't say that you would," Klaus argued, somehow not making a ridiculous figure, even though his penis had somehow stayed erect. "You're putting words in my mouth."

There's several responses Caroline could make to that, a few of them involve slapping his face or stomping on his foot, but she struggles to remain calm because if he accuses her of getting emotional again, or worse, tells her to calm down, she may just have to kill him.

"I think you've confused me with the girls who turn up at your door after seven am looking to spend the rest of their STI ridden lives with you. We're friends-with-drunken-benefits, Klaus, that's it…You know what, take care of your own hard on, I wouldn't want to start crying while jerking you off."

She quickly makes sure she looks passably decent and storms out of the closet, careful to shut it quietly so nobody would hear the loud noise and come running.

The girl's bathroom is almost empty when she slips inside, clearing her throat self-consciously as the fake-brunette gives her a judgemental look as she washes her hands and reapplies her make-up.

Caroline's about to comment on the state of the other woman's dyed eyebrows when the toilet flushes and Davina comes out of the stall, giving the other woman a weird once-over before spotting Caroline. "This place is awesome!" she beams, before almost word-vomiting information to her about Josh and a potential after-school social media job and Caroline lets herself be distracted and soothed by the innocent girl.

When the two of them re-join Marcel and Stefan at the bar, it's to find Marcel looking pissed and Stefan quietly telling Caroline that Klaus had left quickly.

She laughs it off, "Chasing his girl of the week."

The bastard.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- Hi Everyone, here's hoping this site hasn't screwed up again! Thanks for reading.

* * *

There was a huge difference between fighting with your friends in college and fighting with your friends as adults.

For one thing, aside from the incident in the closet, she and Klaus hadn't had a blow-up or any kind of shouting match, she'd just snapped at him and stormed out.

And now, they weren't talking.

Kind of.

He wasn't contacting her and she wasn't sure if it was because they were still fighting or because he'd lost his phone again.

Still, she decided on Wednesday afternoon when he hadn't contacted her that she'd throw herself into her work and not think about him until close of business on Friday.

Except that Marcel messaged her Friday morning when she was kicking Enzo out the door so she could get ready for work and try to combat the slight hangover that would make her afternoon unpleasant. He was inviting her to lunch and she accepted, part of her hoping it would be a group thing and part of her hoping that a certain Brit wouldn't be there.

As it turned out, he wasn't.

She and Marcel tried a new restaurant that wasn't anywhere close to their usual haunts and she's about to ask why when she sees Davina waiting out the front practically bouncing with excitement.

"She's never left the school for lunch before," he explains under his breath, "She's been talking about it for days now."

Caroline grins and pats him on the back before receiving an armful of happy teenager who air-kissed her cheeks.

The wait-staff mistook Caroline and Marcel for teachers and brought out the food quicker than they expected and Marcel cleared his throat as Davina dove into her pasta dish.

"You and Nik are fighting," he begins and Caroline rolls her eyes, even as she's somewhat glad that someone other than the two of them noticed.

"Not exactly, we're fine."

She's never really fought with anyone as an adult but she figures it's kind of like high-school or college where if other people know that two people are fighting, they'll shame or bully them into making up.

Not that Caroline thought she was in the wrong, but there was only so long she wanted to go without talking to Klaus and she figured it'd be easier to offer a fake apology or start talking to him again if they were in a group setting and it was for the sake of their friends.

"He's not." Davina mutters under her breath and Caroline has a moment of concern before Marcel rolls his eyes, "D, for the last time, he's not dating a serial killer."

"He's not dating anyone," Caroline comments automatically, "Right?" she asks when both of them seem surprised by her quick response.

"Just some brunette," Marcel clears his throat, "Uh…I think you know her, Hayley?"

"No…" Davina protested, "Not her, she's fine, she's actually kind of cool,"

"The other woman at the bar."

Caroline leans back in her seat and exchanges a look with Marcel,

"Ashley must have followed me." She decides with a sigh, "I can't really talk to her at work, but maybe…"

She trails off, not sure what to do. She'd always low-key worried that one of Klaus' flings would not be happy when the relationship ended, there had been a few who trash-talked him, one who'd turned up at the studio and one who'd turned up at her apartment to beg her to talk to him for her. She'd quickly talked Marcel and Stefan into helping her run interference, kindly but firmly letting them know that their behaviour wasn't okay and that they could move on or explain their behaviour to the police. Still, she'd always worried that one of these flings wouldn't take no for an answer and start stalking him.

"Leave it," Marcel tells her, waving his hand, "Nik knows the damn consequences to being a damn who…har…" he stumbles and looks to Davina, clearly struggling to find an appropriate word. Davina looks up from the bread she was buttering, her eyes large and innocent in her youthful face,

"Fuckboy?" she offers, and Caroline snorts into her wine, coughing as she tries to catch her breath while laughing.

" _Yes,_ " she gasps, after Marcel whacks her on the back, " _That!_ "

"You should not know that word," Marcel lectures, pointing a finger at her and signalling the waitress for the bill, "Look, are you coming out with us tomorrow?"

Caroline's surprised there isn't anything happening tonight but she gets the details for some sort of party out in the Bayou and represses a shudder at the thought of all the bug spray she'll need.

Gross.

* * *

"Okay, this is gross," Hayley complained as she smacked her arm, killing a mosquito and wiping the mess on her denim shorts, "And hot as f…"

"Hey," she stammered as Caroline approached, "How are you?"

Caroline has run a whole gamut of weird reactions to her from Klaus' flings, but Hayley has the usual hint of awkwardness and friendly eagerness that she's used to.

"Thought Australians could handle the heat." she teased, glad that while she was wearing only a romper with her hair in a fashionably messy knot, she seemed to be handling the heat better than the denim short and repurposed men's shirt outfit Hayley had on.

"Common misconception," Hayley drawled, using her watch to open a beer bottle, "Don't tell anyone, but we have air conditioning everywhere the second it hits thirty degrees Celsius."

Caroline doesn't know what that works out in Fahrenheit but she does know that the humidity reached new heights of unpleasantness the second the minibus hit the Bayou.

As it turned out, the thing Marcel had invited her to was a fundraiser for environment conservation in the Bayou, something Hayley had to attend because of work and Marcel was attending because it was a networking opportunity for him.

Caroline had no idea why she, Stefan and the rest of their rag-tag bunch were at this picnic which had nice tables, decent catering but little shade and too much free booze for good decisions to be made.

She already knew that tomorrow was going to be spent hungover and discovering which parts of her body had weird sunburns.

Hayley is suddenly flushing and rushing away so quickly Caroline wonders if she should offer a tampon when she sees her beaming cheek to cheek at some plaid shirt guy who had just arrived.

"Bloody hell," a voice behind her snaps and Caroline glances over her shoulder to see Klaus glaring up at the sun,

"Why my people thought fighting to _keep_ this land was a good idea, I'll never know."

Caroline knows he's attempting to get them back to normal and she should make some quip about bitterness and Boston tea, but the pre-noon heat has her feeling bitchy.

"I'm surprised you and Hayley lasted long enough for you to score an invite." she mutters and he steps beside her, sipping on a long island ice tea and jerking his chin towards her.

"She has been using me and brought me here to incite jealousy in that…" Klaus pauses,

"I want to say human but those teeth and that hair have me thinking there's some moose in his ancestry."

Caroline laughs, "Oh like anyone from the UK can make jokes about teeth."

And just like that, they're back to where they were.

Getting tipsy, surrounded by people and wondering if they'll be fooling around with each other later.

There's one decent picnic blanket under shade and it had been commandeered by two middle aged ladies, but Caroline sends Klaus over to charm them both into joining him at the bar for more drinks at which point she finds two middle aged men to make conversation with them, leaving Klaus to score the blanket, laying claim with Stefan beside him.

Caroline notes that Stefan's hair is the only thing not wilting in the heat, and takes out her phone to subtly check if they could get an Uber this far from civilisation.

She can't even get it on because her battery is dodgy at the moment.

"Should I even ask?" she queries, turning to Klaus who shrugs,

"No idea what happened to my last one." He says, not the least bit concerned about his latest lost phone.

Stefan chuckles, "I feel as though we should get you a pager instead."

"No," she counters, "He'd lose that too."

"Ooh," Hayley said as she approached, "You could put a tracking tag in his ear."

Caroline notes that she's holding hands with moose-man, "There's an idea." she grins, giving the woman the unspoken invitation back into the group, something Klaus' flings were rarely given.

Jackson, as it turns out moose-man is called, works with Hayley in the Bayou and as such, carries an emergency pack on him at all times, which included the basic first aid kit and also, a portable phone charger.

In thirty minutes, Caroline had full battery and an appreciation for Jackson.

She sends Klaus and Stefan to start covertly gathering up the group and books two Uber pools with a twenty-minute wait time because of how far out they were and kills time by browsing her social media. She sees she has a friend request from someone she doesn't immediately recognize but sees that she volunteered at the same homeless shelter she often collected food and clothes for.

And one from Enzo which she accepts as well.

* * *

Trying to round up a group of nine people- Marcel, Vincent, Thierry, Monique, Stefan, Klaus, Hayley, Jackson and herself and get them into cars wasn't easy. It was made worse when they were disgruntled from the sunburn, tipsy from the alcohol and talking over each other.

Still, Caroline corralled them into the cars and then trusted the drivers to get them to the French Quarter so they could start finding their ways home.

Unfortunately, Klaus had managed to get into the front passenger seat and was soon sweet talking the driver of his car into driving them on to a beer garden he knew, so Caroline had to get the driver in her car to follow, apologizing and hoping that it wouldn't affect her rating.

A beer garden sounds like a terrible idea to her when they've already had enough to drink, but when she finds out it does lunch she relaxes.

The garden is a paved courtyard with a water feature trickling merrily against the brick wall and a canopy of grapevines overheard providing shade.

The tables are ten seaters and the group lays claim to one, Caroline taking her place and Klaus dropping down beside her, while the pretty blonde waitress stares at them.

She figures it's the pondering gaze of a hospitality worker who is trying to figure out if her day just became a nightmare with a group booking and Caroline does her best to give a friendly smile as she asks for menus.

It's a German themed beer garden and it turns out Klaus knows the owner from somewhere, the man wandering out to make conversation with him in the language, a few words of which Caroline likes to pretend she can recognize due to their similarity to English.

Pitchers of beer are ordered but pitchers of water somehow make it to the table first and Stefan nobly pours everyone a glass and tries to encourage them to rehydrate as the menus are laid down.

Klaus' arm is around the back of their seat and Caroline leans into him a little as they peruse the menu, she's not seeing much beyond meat with sides of cabbage and more meat, but when Marcel orders platters for the group, her mouth waters at the sight of the grilled vegetables that are placed before her.

The beer arrives in individual steins ten minutes after they've started eating and she is pretty certain that Stefan planned it that way, Klaus himself openly accusing their unrepentant friend. They're talking and laughing but they aren't being so loud that they chase away other customers, although a priest does come through at one point, look at them judgmentally and turn right around again.

Caroline wipes her hands on her napkin and wants to go to the bathroom to wash her fingers, which somehow managed to get greasy even though she had used cutlery but Klaus' arm has slipped down to her shoulder and she's enjoying the contact too much.

Until it feels a little too heavy and a there's a prickling sensation on the back of her neck.

"Hey," she turns to Klaus and sees his eyes are drooping, and his cheeks are too flushed.

" _Stefan!_ " She cries just as he loses consciousness and jumps to her feet, knocking her knees on the wooden table and Marcel follows.

Stefan moves quickly but calmly, sitting Klaus back and pulling down his lids to look into his eyes,

"Pupils are responsive," he murmurs, "Okay, does anyone know what he's taken?"

What?

" _Seriously?!_ " Caroline snaps, "It's barely four pm and we've been at a freaking picnic, he won't have taken anything!"

"This isn't just alcohol related though," Jackson points out, calm as well and Caroline figures he must have first-aid training for work.

"What does he usually take?"

Weed and cocaine were their favourites but Caroline knows he hadn't taken anything that day because he would have shared with her.

"Wait…" Hayley chimes in, "Antihistamines, we stopped at a pharmacy on the way to buy some because Caroline gets hay-fever."

That's true and somehow this was always the one thing she forgot to stock up on.

And she knew you couldn't mix them with alcohol.

"This is a pretty bad reaction for them, though." She murmurs, uncertain but Stefan shrugs,

"I've seen worse, from you, actually."

He stands, "Okay, you and I can get him home to sleep it off."

The waitress comes out and assesses the situation, "He's friends with the owner," she reminds them, "I'm sure he could lay in the office for a while."

The owner goes one step further and offers to take him back to his place but Caroline shakes her head, "We'll take care of him."

She hurries to the street and waves down a taxi, Stefan able to support Klaus who is leaning against him heavily, barely conscious and wrangle him into the backseat.

The driver takes a little convincing that Klaus hasn't taken heroin- the guy is concerned about him puking in the taxi- and perhaps that fear alone has him taking them directly to their apartment building instead of the roundabout way taxi drivers' usually did.

She opens Klaus' front door and direct Stefan to the bedroom, where Klaus is dropped onto the bed and rolls over onto his side, groaning slightly and Caroline's heart breaks.

"Should we maybe take him to a hospital?" she asks concerned but Stefan shakes his head,

"It might only be Saturday afternoon but I guarantee the local ED's are already at bursting point with patients from last night, besides, he can sleep it off."

He squeezes her arm comfortingly, "It's no worse than the time you forgot you'd taken Zyrtec and had two martinis remember?"

No.

That night was _really_ blurry.

"That's me though," she argues as the two of them make their way to Klaus' kitchen,

"I've seen him throw back sixteen beers, smoke enough weed to sedate San Francisco and be perfectly fine afterwards."

She says this while she moves around the kitchen, trying to act casual even as she feels a burst of pride by how at home she must look there, knowing where everything was and getting Stefan a can of the Scottish soda that wasn't sold in the U.S and Klaus had to buy online.

Stefan only shrugs, "And I used to be able to snort enough cocaine to keep six Columbian drug lords in business but I'm still getting shaky if I have more than three coffees a day."

She accepts this with a sigh and tells him that she's going to stay and keep an eye on Klaus anyway and he gives her a friendly hug as he leaves.

"He's lucky to have you." he whispers in her ear and she grins, "He's lucky to have you too."

Stefan hums in a manner that seems a little weird but she lets it go. Heading to the couch and slumping onto it with a sigh.

How to kill the next few hours?

Klaus had a small shelf which had been overstuffed with books. A few classics and the prerequisite collection of Orwell, Salinger, Nietzsche, that Caroline had noticed on every reading list of white male college graduates that she'd dated. She thumbs one curiously and looks at the easels Klaus had scattered around his apartment. She would never go near his sketchbook without invitation because she figured it was his version of a locked diary, but she admires his paintings as much as she's able to without a trained eye.

A beautiful sunset, one of a woman standing on a porch, New Orleans at night…

She wonders if she can ask for a painting for her next birthday.

She's curled up on his couch, catching up on her Netflix watch list when he staggers out of the bedroom, "Food and water." He mumbles and she pushes herself up,

"Back to bed," she orders, going to the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, "You need rest."

He complies and she grabs her phone, taking it into the bedroom with her and settling with her back against the pillows while she browses online for delivery. He has a king-sized bed which he'd bought by accident because he'd always thought queen-sized where the biggest ones, so they have plenty of room to move but she still ends up closer to him than strictly necessary.

"What do you feel like eating?" she asks, as he lies beside her, rubbing his eyes,

"What happened?" he queries, "I can't remember anything past the picnic."

"You had a bad reaction to the antihistamine you took," she told him quietly, "It was a little scary but Stefan and I got you home."

He rolls onto his back and tilts his head to look at her, "What antihistamine?"

She raised her eyebrows, "The one you bought this morning with Hayley?"

He sighs, "Bloody hell, was it cut with ice?"

She scoffed, "Seriously?! Okay, we need to get some food into you."

She orders Chinese food for them both and lies back, Klaus shuffling over to rest his head on her leg and sighs. With a shaking hand, she plays gently with his hair in what she hopes is a platonic manner, "We had lunch at a beer garden, you had a conversation with the owner in pretty fluent German. He offered to take you back to his place."

Klaus opens his eyes and frowns in confusion, "Okay, either we were at Ansel's beer garden or I need to be mildly concerned."

She bumps him with her knee and he slips his hand under her calf, squeezing it gently before they lapse into easy silence. Klaus' bedroom was peaceful, especially because it was facing south so they didn't catch the afternoon sun, only a bit of light and shadows. He's restless beside her but clearly trying to relax and she contemplates how they can pass the time when his hand starts creeping up her thigh…

Just as there is a knock on the door.

She laughs over his groan, going to collect their food and planning on how to spend the rest of the afternoon teasing and cockblocking him.

She was glad they were back to normal.

* * *

A/N- Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N- Happy New Year Everyone. Have some smut.

* * *

Like in every city that dealt with massive influxes of tourism, the locals of New Orleans tended to avoid Bourbon St and the immediate surrounding area of the French Quarter, the main tourist trap bars and restaurants.

Although, despite qualifying as 'too close' in the minds of the residents Rousseau's rarely saw tourists passing through, they tended to stick to the famous drinking holes a few doors up.

Except during Mardi Gras or New Year's Eve, when every single place that served alcohol was packed to the rafters.

But that was typically when Caroline and her friends congregated at Marcel's anyway.

Anyone new to New Orleans usually took a few weeks or months- depending on their drinking habits- to find the places frequented by the locals.

The hole in the wall places that had been there for decades, the converted houses, the closed down factories that became nightclubs.

The places even the guidebooks didn't mention when advertising 'authenticity' because the author either hadn't found it or been ordered to secrecy to avoid being swarmed by the tourists looking for 'the real New Orleans', unaware that their patronage of a place, in the excessive numbers that tourists tended to visit in was what caused a business to lose the very same vibe that had lured them there to begin with.

So, when the woman walks into Rousseau's, looking for all the world like she'd taken a wrong turn off the Champs Elysee and just kept going, Caroline assumes that she was somehow lost or a local that they'd never met before.

But, even dressed all in chic black and with a pretentious tilt of her chin, she's beautiful, so it takes roughly three minutes for Klaus to meet her, chat her up and bring her back to his table of friends.

"Katherine Pierce," he introduces, and gives her the names of their large group, and Caroline sees her eyes alight on each of them but in the glazed way that suggests she's not going to remember them all.

Which is fair. It's late Saturday afternoon and they'd all been drinking since brunch had turned into lunch which had bled into afternoon drinks and would finish at Marcel's apartment.

"She's new to town."

"Pleasure," she states, in an accented voice, dropping down into a seat with a jangle of jewellery and Caroline continues to observe her as discreetly as possible.

She couldn't see the tags, but she would guess that she was in head to toe designer outfits, and the bangles on her wrists were a mixture of gold, silver and bronze, none of them showing any discolouration which suggested they were expensive, not something bought from the checkout shelves at H&M.

Marcel shifts slightly, throwing an arm over the back of the couch, behind Caroline's head, 

"What brings you to Nola?" he asks casually and she turns her eyes on him,

"I'm at an Atelier for six months," she explains, "I was offered either New York or New Orleans and chose here."

"I'm a designer," she continues when she notes slight confusion in some of their faces, "Women's shoes."

"Why not New York?" Caroline asks, having once dreamed of living in that city but Katherine's shrug suggests she could take or leave the Big Apple.

"I have heard New York City is best for people with lots of money or able to walk very far," she gestures down to her boots which have six-inch heels,

"I lived in Paris for ten years, I don't need a city where you have to queue for six hours or walk six kilometres to get anywhere interesting."

"Also, I have met people from New York City," she adds, "They are assholes."

Stefan snorts into his drink and Caroline wants to protest out of a sense of nationalism but she doesn't really have a leg to stand on.

She'd visited New York once, made the mistake of asking someone to 'move please' instead of saying 'excuse me' and they threatened to beat the crap out of her for rudeness.

She'd decided against pointing out that irony.

Caroline likes to practise her manners on Klaus' flings, but never bothers to learn or remember much beyond the basics, after all, whatever makings of a friendship she begins with these girls tends to end when they reach their expiry date in his bed.

Of course, New Orleans is a small city in terms of hotspots, so they will run into each other from time to time, but where Caroline had used to blush and feel guilty whenever she recognised one of them, or make awkward conversation, now she merely smiles, nods and moves on.

Hayley, who had somehow managed to remain in the group and even brought in her new boyfriend, was the exception to the rule, and only because she clearly had no intention of sleeping with Klaus ever again.

Right this moment, she was sitting opposite Stefan, her eyes on Klaus as he successfully flirted with Katherine, dropping in a few basic phrases in Bulgarian to her apparent delight, and clearly Hayley was noting the same tactics he had used on her.

Caroline only listens with half an ear, making conversation with Marcel about his work and Davina having become best friends with Josh the bartender and they had made it their mission to visit every café in New Orleans before she turned twenty-one.

She learns that Katherine was supposed to be on a date but was bailing with only a text to join them, Klaus buying her drinks as the rest of them got steadily drunker, swaying as they made the short trip to Marcel's apartment to find that it was already filled with people who had crashed there from the party the night before.

The music they were playing was a little too grungy and Caroline used a moment of distraction when introductions were being made to sneak over to Marcel's laptop and access his music list, knowing that he had a set list for every type of party that took place in his apartment.

Although, she'd never had the courage to ask why there was one playlist titled 'Blood soaked orgy'

Katherine is swallowed up by the crowd, as pretty young women often are, especially with her European glamour, foreign accent and the habit she had of pausing and snapping her fingers in irritation when she couldn't think of an English word.

Caroline knows how Klaus' play works, almost down to the minute, so she heads up to the rooftop to hang out with the stoners, sunning herself on a bean bag and listening to Stefan strum the guitar, taking requests from the increasingly faded audience until ninety minutes had passed and she knew that Klaus was currently on the way back to his place with Katherine.

She mentally shrugs, figures that with her novelty, Katherine will last about two weeks and distracts herself with texting Enzo and Davina, who Marcel did not allow to attend Saturday drinking sessions, especially when she had homework.

* * *

One good thing about an Englishman is that they always had tea.

Especially Englishmen who were willing to lean into the stereotype.

Klaus had an entire cupboard in his kitchen filled with various kinds and flavours of tea, sorted into their categories.

Loose leaf, bagged, solid bricks like the American's had thrown into Boston Harbour and which Marcel and Stefan had thrown into the Mississippi on the Fourth of July just to mess with him. When he had taken uppers, he sorted his tea according to their regions.

He also had many different teapots, apparently you could use the bone china teapot with the built-in infuser for any loose-leaf tea, but the cast-iron tea pot could only be used for certain loose-leaf teas. There was a method to washing out the bone china teapot, so that it didn't discolour over time, but the cast-iron teapot could be rinsed and left to dry.

Teabags were the casual and easiest way to have tea, just toss them in the cup and pour boiling water over the top.

But this water had to come from a kettle, not a pot on the stove and definitely not from the microwave.

Microwaving tea was the worst atrocity you could commit against Klaus Mikaelson, and yes, he could tell the difference, which Caroline had learnt when she'd tried to give him microwaved tea once to see if he picked up on it.

He'd refused to speak to her for the rest of the day.

Since becoming friends with him, Caroline had got into the habit of drinking tea at least once every few days. Although, one winter when she'd had the flu, she'd drunk it almost every waking hour.

So, when she finds herself craving some peppermint tea, she thinks nothing of heading down to his apartment, letting herself in with the spare key they'd given each other- originally for emergencies- and shouting for him as she headed into the kitchen.

Which is where she found Katherine Pierce leaning against the kitchen sink, sipping on a takeout coffee, wearing one of Klaus' t-shirts over the skinny jeans she seemed to live in.

 _Three weeks_ after she and Klaus had started sleeping together.

For a wild moment, Caroline is terrified that it has finally happened, one of Klaus' lays had snapped and started stalking him, breaking into his house and playing girlfriend like it was a bad soap opera story.

Her shock and fear must have shown on her face, because Katherine raises her eyebrows,

"Did Niklaus tell you that we had broken up?" she asks, her voice sultry and teasing, "Or that you and he were exclusive now?"

Her cheeks colour with embarrassment, "No, uh sorry…what are you doing here?"

Katherine only grins and bends down to open the cupboard and throw her coffee away, showing off her legs and ass unnecessarily.

"You mean, apart from Klaus?" she queries and Caroline can't help but notice just how proficient her English was when there weren't any guys around.

"Is he here?" she questions, "I'm just borrowing some coffee."

"In the shower," Katherine tells her, "When he gets out, tell him I've gone to work, would you?"

Caroline forces herself to smile, "Sure, have fun!"

It wasn't possible to literally kill someone with kindness, but dammit, Caroline would love to try.

Still wearing his shirt, Katherine sashays out of the apartment and Caroline takes a moment to close her eyes and wish she hadn't left her own apartment wearing only leggings, a t-shirt and ballet flats.

Katherine had casually modelled back in the day to pay her way through school and Caroline knew that with her own blonde hair and blue eyes that she was pretty, but right now, she felt plain and dowdy.

She hears the shower turn off, not having noticed the running water until she registered its absence and after a few minutes, Klaus stepped out of the bathroom, clad only in a white king-sized towel and on his way to his bedroom before he noticed her.

"Morning love," he greeted, "What're you doing here?"

She gave him a tight smile, "Raiding your tea collection."

He brightens, "Wonderful idea, I'll put the kettle on."

He's still damp, his face flushed from the hot water and his hair wet. Caroline feels her mouth go dry with longing as he fills the kettle, plugging it in and flicking the button, his movements easy and assured, not the least bit concerned about being only one bit removed from nudity.

Then again, they'd seen each other in various stages of undress at this point, and she takes a moment to consider how she'd had his cock in her hand and her mouth, his cum in her palm and her mouth.

She moves around him to grab down the tea and her favourite teapot, enjoying the intimacy and the way she's comfortable in his apartment to help herself to his things.

"Katherine has gone to work," she informs him, keeping her voice light and he gives her a tilted smile,

"She's lasted longer than the rest of your girls." She continues, even as she's terrified that he'll announce that this woman is 'the one'.

"Last week we had 'the talk'," he reveals and Caroline grips the cup tightly in her hand, wondering if she could break the china into fragments in lieu of her heart, wondering how it would make her feel.

"She let me know that as charming as I am, she was merely using me for sex and fun, with no intention of ever having anything more serious with me." He finishes and she has to process the sentence a few times before it makes sense to her.

"Seriously?! _She's_ using _you_?" she echoes, trying to clarify, "Klaus Mikaelson, being used for casual sex instead of the other way around?!"

He swallows and shifts slightly, "I don't use women," he mutters, "We have fun, and then part ways."

Caroline snorts, "Please, you've left more broken hearts and cold beds in your wake than a man in a country western song."

"Goodness," a new voice comments, "That is concerning."

Caroline starts and turns towards the intruder, noticing his GQ worthy bespoke three-piece suit before studying his features, strong jaw, intelligent eyes and perfectly groomed hair.

She vaguely recognises him but can't place it until Klaus speaks. 

"The _hell_ are you doing here?" he demands, "And how the hell did you _get_ into my apartment?"

The man looks to him with a vague expression of amusement, "Interrupting your discussion about your whoring ways," he answers, "And your landlord gave me a key to your door with only an English accent and my claim that we were related as assurance that I was not a burglar."

Of course, she places him now; Elijah Mikaelson.

"Hi," she says, beaming as she places her cup down and offers her hand, "Caroline Forbes, nice to meet you."

He takes her hand lightly, shaking it perfunctorily, "Charmed," he murmurs drily, "Might I call you a cab?"

Seriously?!

"I'm not one of Klaus' one-night stands," she explains, her smile becoming brittle but staying on her face because dammit, she was going to take the high-road here,

"I'm one of his friends."

Behind her, Klaus scoffs and Caroline knew that if this moment was taking place on a tv show, that the Kill Bill siren would be playing.

In fact, she can practically hear them now.

"Caroline is my best friend," Klaus snaps, unknowingly saving his own life, "A fact I know I've mentioned to you before, big brother."

The switch on the kettle clicks and the teapot is slammed down on the counter with a bit more clatter than necessary, causing her and Elijah to jump slightly at the noise.

"Of course," Elijah says, clearing his throat, "Forgive me, I've been rather…absentminded of late."

"No wonder your wife is bloody divorcing you," Klaus sneers, "Who's replaced you in her bed? Is his winning feature his ability to pay attention?"

Caroline looks over her shoulder and glares at him in warning, before turning back to Elijah,

"Welcome to New Orleans," she says, her voice becoming kind, "How long are you staying?"

"In a hotel," Klaus interjects, "I assume that's where you're headed after this?"

Elijah inhales sharply, "I do have a room booked, yes, with the vague idea of moving into an apartment if I wish to prolong my stay, however, thus far, I have no set plan."

"As Niklaus just mentioned, I am newly divorced and felt that a holiday was in order," he explains to Caroline,

"I have never properly travelled through the United States and thought I would start with visiting my younger brother."

Well, that was probably a mistake, Caroline thinks to herself, considering how the first few minutes of the visit was going.

Guessing that Klaus probably didn't need a witness to whatever happened next, Caroline grabs the teapot and slips her pinkie finger through the cup,

"Have fun," she trills brightly,

"Klaus, I'll see you later." she tosses in parting, in case he needed an excuse to cut the reunion short.

She sweeps out of the apartment and barely breathes until she's back in hers, distracting herself with checking on the steeping tea and giving her windowsills a quick dusting while waiting.

It isn't until she's sipping on the steaming brew that she allows herself to properly feel the humiliation she had experienced from two different people in the space of an hour.

Both Katherine and Elijah had disregarded her as one of Klaus' sexual partners, and not even one deserving of respect.

Usually, when people saw the two of them together, they thought they were boyfriend and girlfriend- or weirdly sometimes, siblings- and treated them as such. It was very rarely that she was mistaken as one of his one-night stands.

In fact, she couldn't remember the last time it had happened.

Perhaps one of his actual one-night stands had thought that the two of them had the same relationship to him, but she could usually disabuse them of that notion by stating firmly that she was his friend and they either believed her or at least had the decency to pretend they did.

She decides that she doesn't like either Katherine Pierce or Elijah Mikaelson and hoped like hell that neither of them joined the friendship circles that she and Klaus moved in.

* * *

Klaus comes barging into her apartment that evening, while she's in the shower and she doesn't realize until she comes out wrapped in a towel in a reverse of their morning meeting and finds him fiddling with her tv.

"I'm beginning to think we should lure a teenager here to play with this thing until it's working again." He comments, pressing random buttons on her remote with increasing violence.

"Maybe we shouldn't use the word _lure_ when referring to underage kids?" she suggests, "Especially when the plan is to get them into my apartment."

He tosses the remote onto the couch with a muttered curse and turns to her, his eyes landing on the towel and he reaches over, grabbing her by the hips and tugging her towards him.

She goes with a knowing smile and lets him untuck the towel, which drops to the floor and exposes her to his lustful gaze,

"Bloody hell, you are gorgeous," he growls and she smirks,

"I thought you were with Katherine Pierce?" she teases and he rolls his eyes,

"I got a text from her at lunchtime, wanting to know how I'd feel if she tried to get it on with my brother, whom she apparently met on her way out of my apartment this morning," he announces and Caroline smacks a hand to her mouth as she laughs,

"That probably tells you all you need to know about the kind of day I've had." He quips,

"What did you say?" she asks, even as his hands return to her hips and his fingers stroke the skin there, causing goosebumps to skim up her body.

"Well, having had to read Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde and every other story of forbidden love ever writ in British and Irish history, I knew forbidding it would only ensure their passionate union. Therefore, I had no choice but to tell her I was fine with it, provided she and I ended things immediately."

Caroline hums sympathetically, as he drops down onto the couch and tugs on her hands until she's standing with her legs on either side of his,

"So you need comfort?" she teases and he looks up, his eyes already hooded and she squirms slightly as desire pools in her.

"I need to finish this day doing something productive," he counters, "And right now, getting you off is the best way to achieve that."

She tilts her head back, her chuckle ending in a squeal as he nips at her thigh,

"Have you noticed that your accent is really thick right now?" she queries as he follows up his bite with a soothing kiss, "Like…as thick as your first few months here?"

He hums, bumping his nose against her curls and she unconsciously moves her hips closer to him, "That'll happen when I'm chatting with another Brit," he explains, between kisses up and down her thigh, making her tremble with anticipation when he gets close to her pussy.

"Or if I decide to binge watch BBC again," he adds thoughtfully and she laughs,

"Please don't," she protests, "The last time you did that we couldn't understand you for a solid week, Stefan was running google translate whenever you spoke."

"Let's not talk about our mates when I'm about to go down on you, hmmm?" he suggests drily and she shrugs, "Maybe talking about Stefan is my new kink?"

He growls and her laughter is cut off when he presses a fierce kiss to her clit, breaking away to tease it with his tongue before slipping down to her core, laving her folds and giving her hot, wet, intense kisses that have her shivering and whimpering as her arousal coated his tongue.

Her hand plays lightly with his blonde curls as his head bobs between her thighs, his hands gripping the backs of her legs to keep her where he wanted her as he penetrated her with his tongue.

And she bites her lip, thrilling in the idea that he's eating her out in her living area, her bedroom only a few feet away but apparently too far for his needs, and the window is right there and obviously nobody could see them unless Spiderman decided to climb the walls of the building opposite, but there's still a risk, however small and it has her moaning even louder.

Maybe the neighbours would hear and be jealous of her sex life?

She pants his name, along with variations of 'Oh my god,' and 'don't stop', even though he shows no signs of doing the latter, even when she comes, his tongue continues its motions, even as he gives her a wicked glance. It's not until her knees wobble that he pushes her lengthways across the couch and spreads her legs wide, kneeling between them and pushing down his pants.

She has a moment where she thinks he's finally going to have full-blown sex with her and can almost feel his cock slipping into her pussy and she arches her hips as the aftershocks leave her trembling.

But instead, Klaus slid his fingers inside her, coating them before wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking from tip to length,

"Want a hand?" Caroline offers, her shoulders shaking with amusement and he glowers at the pun,

"This is the closest you've ever come to not being attractive," he pants, "Anyone else and I'd be soft right now."

She laughs again while reaching behind her to scoop her hair up and over the arm of the couch before playing idly with her breasts as Klaus' hand picked up the pace.

He came on her stomach in long spurts and she pressed her foot to his chest, gently pushing him away until he was lying in a mirror position to her.

"Feel better?" she asked as he tried to catch his breath,

"Well…" he ponders, "My brother is still on the same continent as me, so about as well as could be expected."

His cum is sticky and warm on her skin, and she contemplates getting back into the shower, but the energy for that is currently beyond her and there is something sensual about being here on the couch with her best friend-with-benefits.

"I'm glad we're like this." she announces, impulsively, and his breathing stills,

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she confirms, "This is good for us both."

He pushes himself up onto his elbows, so they can look each other in the eyes,

"I wouldn't change our relationship for anything," he promises and she nudges him with her knee,

"Nor I." she replies, in a mocking English accent and he groans,

"That was terrible."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N- Hi. I'm kind of back.

* * *

Within their group of friends, parents or any family at all were a rare commodity.

Caroline's mom was in Mystic Falls, which wasn't exactly the hardest trek in the world if she wanted to visit her daughter, she could have easily made the trip to New Orleans, but every Thanksgiving, Sheriff Forbes was working and apparently, there was enough crime in the small town of one thousand people that she couldn't hop on a plane and come see her daughter for the weekend.

Stefan's mother had run off with her lover and some bizarre polyamorous group when he was ten and he'd never heard from her again, meanwhile, his father was an asshole who tried using his money to control his sons and when that hadn't worked, kicked them both out of home.

Marcel wouldn't even speak of his father, except he'd dropped enough hints for Caroline to suspect that he was either dead or had a restraining order against him. Hayley and Jackson were orphans, Davina was already making plans to move in with Josh, whose own parents had kicked him out for being gay.

Caroline had to wonder if like attracted like.

This was why when Klaus' brother came to town, nobody thought it strange when he dropped off the map for a few days, they figured that he was either spending time with Elijah, or spending his free time dealing with having his brother in town.

They had no practical experience for family visits, but they hypothesised that they were emotionally and probably physically exhausting, so even though Caroline lived in the same building as him, and had a key to his apartment, she hadn't seen him in days now.

And was feeling every spare second of it.

He was her best friend and not being able to send him messages through the day, random thoughts, memes, links to events or articles that might interest him was hard. She literally had to stop herself from picking up the phone to contact him.

She could have just sent those same messages to another one of her friends, but it wasn't the same, she could predict Klaus' response and knew a rough approximation of his schedule and could guestimate when he would respond.

During the rare occasions when he hadn't lost his phone anyway.

But sitting in her apartment on a Saturday morning, on the rare weekend day when she didn't have something planned with her friends, made her realise how much time she had been setting aside for her best friend and how that must have isolated her.

Perhaps that was why, when she answered her door to find Katerina Petrova on the other side announcing that they were going shopping, she agreed.

Katerina hadn't really merged into the group as Hayley had, but like a few others who orbited their friendship circle, if they had a party or some other event planned, she was on the list of invitees. In fact, she had been steadily climbing up that list until she was the first person they called and had even started bringing her own hangers on.

She wasn't a close friend, but she was guaranteed to be a good time, and right now, Caroline was lonely enough to consider throwing away a Saturday on her.

She'd assumed that Katerina would want to hit up a mall, one of the fancier ones with paid parking and stores the average customer was too intimidated to enter, but instead, they hit up a street market on the fringes of the French Quarter, one that had handmade goods and random trinkets and eccentricities.

They're admiring a range of silver jewellery when Caroline lets her curiosity get the better of her.

"So," she drawls, "Are you and Klaus' brother…?"

Katerina shrugs, "I would like to be but he's currently getting divorced and seems to be focused on whatever toxic relationship he and his brother have, from what I gathered, their father was an asshole and their mother wasn't much better. We had drinks at his hotel bar and I haven't seen him since."

And again, she answers in near fluent if accented English.

Caroline's next question is lost as the stall holder has to ask Katerina where she's from and then make the same interested noise he would have made regardless of her answer.

"As if anyone here could _find_ Bulgaria on a map," she hisses as she takes Caroline's arm and steers her away, "Hell, I can barely find it some days."

It's too early in the day and their friendship to start drinking, but they sit down at the first café with outdoor seating and order coffees.

"I've been sleeping with Stefan." Katerina announces without preamble and Caroline coughs a little in surprise,

"Wow…uh…seriously?!"

She shrugs, "He's cute, if a little…" she hesitates, obviously unable to find the right word this time, "Like a puppy?"

"Naïve?" Caroline suggests.

"That, but he was the one who suggested I invite you out today."

Caroline's not really sure how to respond to that but Katerina continues,

"I like hanging out with men, they flatter me and tell me I'm 'not like other girls'," she pauses to make a face and Caroline feels a stab of sympathy for her and understanding,

"But all the friends I had in Bulgaria and in Paris were men and I came to New Orleans because I wanted a fresh start and to have female friends who don't just want to go out partying with me to attract men, but also hang out with me during the day. I want friends who I know don't want to have sex with me and Stefan clearly thinks you need more female friends too."

She'd had Caroline right up to that point, but even with the idea lingering in the back of her mind that Stefan was so worried about her that he was sending his casual hook-ups out to befriend her, she found herself empathizing with Katerina.

Growing up, she'd had two best friends who she'd thought of as sisters, until they'd got to high school and somehow, between different interests and the stress of grades and college applications, she'd become a third wheel. In college, she'd joined a sorority and become a mother hen to nearly every girl in that house, but then graduation had come along and they'd all moved to different parts of the country.

Here, in New Orleans, she had female work friends that she could grab lunch with, or drinks after hours, there were a few women in their group that she could hang out with at parties or in the bathroom when they were at bars, but no-one she could bitch to when her period was killing her or trade dating disasters with or even just have over for a night of movie and ice-cream.

And until Katerina had pointed it out to her, she hadn't realised just how much she had wanted that.

So, she smiles, "I'm glad you did." she responds.

They don't have much in common, but Katerina knows more about shoes than anyone Caroline has ever encountered and hearing her talk about the process, from the design to the creation, how they built the shoes and how her wardrobe was filled with one off pairs that had been made before the design was scrapped, was fascinating. From there they move on to complaining about some of their co-workers, and Caroline is ranting about one who could never go a day without pointing out that she hadn't had ice-cream in a solid decade when she found out that Katerina had not had Ben & Jerry's yet.

So, from going from a Saturday with absolutely nothing planned, she ends up at Katerina's place, on an uber-trendy couch, with a pint of ice-cream and a movie playing on Netflix.

Neither of them is watching so much as they are making snide comments about it and when Caroline calls out the terrible British accent- one of the benefits of being friends with an actual Brit, she knows a fake accent when she hears one it- Katerina pounces on that.

"You and Klaus are sleeping together, right?"

Caroline swallows the ice-cream in her mouth and tries to answer casually, "We're friends-with-some-benefits."

" _So_ …yes?" Katerina tries to clarify, and she searches for the right response before settling on,

"It's complicated…" and when she realises that's the lamest most overused answer in the history of relationships, she feels herself rambling

"I mean, we're best friends and occasionally we fool around but we only do foreplay, not actual sex and we sleep with other people, which you obviously know..."

She cuts herself off with a large scoop of ice-cream because she's not going to dig her own grave thank-you very much, but she's laid enough of the ground work for Katerina to pick up the shovel.

"You're two gorgeous best friends who do _everything_ but have sex and you've never thought of actually dating one another?" she asks pointedly, and Caroline takes a moment to thank god that she was the daughter of a sheriff who had used the same interrogation tactics on her as she did criminals.

"We have a good thing going, we don't want to screw that up, and besides, we have everything we need from one another, we have fun sex with other people and emotional fulfillment with each other, as best friends do, because we totally don't think of each other in the romantic sense."

She probably should have led with that last part because Katerina has the same look in her eye as a shark sensing blood.

"You know," she begins, taking a victory lick of her spoon, "Klaus and I weren't even three days into our hook-up when he turned down a booty call to go to a museum with you."

"Because we're friends." Caroline tries arguing but it sounds weak, even to her ears.

"He turned down _sex_ with _me_ ," Katerina reiterates, "And I am _really_ good at sex by the way, to go and _not_ have sex with you, at a _museum_."

Caroline doesn't have the right level of self-delusion to keep arguing and honestly, Katerina did say she wanted to be friends.

"Okay, yes, he turned down sex with you to hang out with me and I would have done the same thing even if the sex was guaranteed to be really, really good and if there was ever even the slightest chance that he wanted to be more than friends with me, I would jump on it but he doesn't want that and the longest I've ever seen him interested in a woman is three weeks, with you and I am not going to risk everything we have because I would rather just be friends than lose him completely."

She stops to inhale and closes her eyes, dropping her head back on the couch with a groan,

"This is my life," she declares, "It sounds like a freaking Nicholas Sparks novel, and not even one of the ones adapted into a movie either, one of the less popular ones."

Katerina pats her knee sympathetically, "Do you want to talk about something else? Let me tell you about my younger sister, who not only slept with my boyfriend, but then cheated on him with his brother, whom I also dated and was part of my motivation for leaving Bulgaria forever."

Caroline opens her eyes and raises her eyebrows, "Wow, okay, yes, please."

* * *

Stefan wasn't a fully-fledged alcoholic, but he was concerned enough about the number of times he'd blacked out in the past to try and find group activities that didn't revolve around going to bars.

Caroline had taught herself to handle booze well and never allowed herself to drink enough to risk a black out unless she was in super safe situations, but she was a supportive friend, so when he asked for her to help him convince the group to hang out at Marcel's instead of hitting Rousseau's for the third time in a week, she went one further and called for a board game night.

Admittedly, she wasn't the best at board games because she was slightly too competitive and focused on playing by the rules, however, she figured she could be chill for one night, concentrate on having fun instead of winning.

Okay, she was a type-A personality, sue her.

Davina was invested, because while she was allowed into Rousseau's, courtesy of their long patronage and the bartenders knowing that they wouldn't sneak her alcohol, it was boring for her to be the only sober person there as they steadily got drunker and less coherent, but the rest of her friends needed a little more convincing, wanting to know why they couldn't turn it into drinking games, which was concerning, but she put her foot down and went out to buy a copy of Monopoly: New Orleans Edition.

She even turned up at Marcel's early to help him prepare.

"You know," he said as he opened the door, "I've never actually set up for a party before."

"That's because you've never had people over when they were sober," she counters, hip checking him because her hands were full of grocery bags.

"But we're adults and we're going to be mature tonight."

"By playing board games." He counters, and she glares,

"No cupcakes for you." she warns, and he holds up his hands,

"I'm sorry," he offered, grinning widely, "Let's get ready for a super-fun evening!"

He connects her phone to his speakers and lets her choose the playlist, and yes, she might have a playlist specifically for pre-party apartment cleaning, but it works so it's totally not crazy.

When they gathered at Marcel's place, their friends were either pre-gaming, having a party or using it for an after-party, therefore, the concept of cleaning when everyone was going to be spilling food, drinks or making a general mess seemed redundant.

Now, however, he was vacuuming the floors, the couches, wiping down benches as she baked in the kitchen and she could see that even he was warming up to the idea of having friends over for something not alcohol related.

"Caroline Forbes," he says, coming up behind her as she rolled dough on the counter and putting his hands on her shoulders,

"Bringing us into adulthood, one sober event at a time."

"Next, I'll have us discussing our 401k's," she jokes, "Just you wait."

He chuckles and presses a kiss to the back of her head, muttering something she doesn't catch and when she's about to ask him to repeat it, he's already starting to sing along to the music, so she forgets as she joins in.

Davina turns up first with a new board game, still in the packaging which she had gone to a pop culture store to buy and which she had got with the employee discount because the assistant had been 'really, really friendly and helpful'.

Caroline isn't going to be the one to explain why exactly that male service worker had been so friendly, Davina was young, plenty of time enough to make that connection on her own, or she could discover it like Caroline had, that the further away she got from pre-legal age, the more the percentage of those discounts declined.

She'd invited Josh the bartender, who, though he'd come into the group in a less orthodox way, though probably healthier considering he hadn't had sex with any of them, was friendly and easy to get along with. Especially when he realised that the women in the group weren't looking for what he called the 'Gay Best Friend' stereotype. He and Caroline are trying to make game-themed mocktails they found online as the rest of their group filters in, carrying board games or snacks.

And while Klaus had been invited, he'd been growing more and more lackadaisical in his replies and communication until he'd gone radio silent for the better part of a month now. Caroline had only known he was alive because Stefan had gone and banged on his apartment door.

Which maybe Caroline should have done but he'd assured her that he was okay, he'd just lost another phone, was dealing with his brother- who Katerina was starting to meet for semi-regular drinks- and apparently, he just needed time to deal.

And, perhaps part of her was upset that Klaus had needed space not only from their friends, but from her and when working full time, it was easy for the days to blend together and to run out of time or energy to check in with friends, or at least, that was her excuse when she didn't want to admit to herself that she wanted him to miss her enough to seek her out.

They were best friends after all.

Which is why, when he walks in the door, she's so excited and happy that he's finally emerging from his self-imposed exile that she bounds over and throws her arms around him, drawing him in for a hug that has him picking her up and walking them a few paces as he rocks her back and forth,

"I've missed you too, sweetheart."

There's a pointed feminine throat clearing behind them and Caroline has a moment to wonder why Katerina was coming in the front door again when she looks over his shoulder and sees a complete stranger standing there.

Of course.

Klaus might have dropped off his friends' radars for a solid month but apparently, he'd made time for casual hook-ups.

Why would celibacy be part of Klaus' month-long radio silence?

Still, she fixes the smile on her face because that's what she does, "Hi," she greets in a cheerful tone,

"I'm Caroline."

The other woman is blonde haired, blue eyed and with a healthy tan and a perky smile,

"Cami O'Connell, it's so nice to meet you."

She ushers them in and throws back her shoulders, straightening her posture as she did every time she was faced with something that hurt her.

Breathe and move on.

Clapping her hands, she gestures around the room, "We have mocktails, plenty of junk food and board games, I'm sure Klaus can introduce you to everyone."

Everyone who would probably handle his flavour of the week better than she could at the moment.

Except Stefan who comes into the kitchen under the pretext of grabbing himself a glass of water,

"He's not sober." he mutters to her in a quiet aside and Caroline checks her phone for the time,

A little early but not unusual for them.

"He's not paralytic," she argues in his defence, "We said the event was alcohol free, not that our friends couldn't pre-drink."

Stefan lets it go yet Caroline can sense he's annoyed, but she's not going to let anything ruin game night, so she grabs the cupcakes, tells herself firmly that she can have a self-pity spiral when she goes to bed tonight and smiles even wider.

"Who wants to play Monopoly?"

* * *

A/N- Thanks for sticking with the story everyone.


End file.
